


call me friend (but keep me closer)

by cluelessclown



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 11:44:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20692997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cluelessclown/pseuds/cluelessclown
Summary: The Losers are leaving Derry for college, and Richie isn't feeling great about it.





	call me friend (but keep me closer)

“Dude, I can’t believe Bill’s going to fucking _ Berkeley_.” Richie groaned as he slumped onto Eddie’s bed. “That’s, like, right across the country.”

He had always loved coming over to Eddie’s, especially when the rest of the group couldn’t make it and the two of them ended up spending the evening together, listening to Richie’s records or watching old horror films on TV — even if Eddie claimed that his mother would kill him if she found out he’d been watching ‘anxiety-inducing stuff’ while she went grocery shopping.

“Guess that’s what he was aiming for in his college applications,” Eddie shrugged, then wrinkled his nose at the sight of Richie wriggling his feet against his perfectly white sheets. “Don’t do that! I can’t sleep if I know they’ve been contaminated with _ your _ germs.”

“What do you mean?” Richie asked, and grinned at the expression of sheer horror that settled on Eddie’s face when he dug his heel into the mattress.

“Fuck off!” Eddie launched himself next to him, elbowing him hard on the ribs and chuckling at the feign annoyance in Richie’s face. “I guess he just wants to get away after what happened with Georgie, that’s all. I think his parents are moving to Florida or something like that.”

“Well, I for one can’t wait to get out of this shithole either.” Richie shrugged, wriggling his legs against Eddie’s. They were both used to such degrees of proximity, but he still couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy about the way Eddie’s knees bumped onto his thighs, almost tempting him to think of things that he had systematically tried to keep out of his mind for as long as he could remember. He recoiled ever so lightly and cleared his throat before adding, “Although it’ll be pretty crappy not to be able to, you know, pester you on a daily basis.”

Eddie just rolled his eyes and shook his head a little before taking Richie’s glasses and peeking through them, much to his near-sighted best friend’s annoyance.

“So where are you going for college again?” he asked casually, although there was something in his voice that hinted towards a genuine interest in knowing where Richie would spend the next four years of his life. Eddie had applied to a few schools over the past few months, but he had ultimately settled for the University of Maine, which wasn’t too much but would work for him and his worrisome mother, with him being able to come home every other weekend and his college keeping her posted on every single on-campus activity and the daily cafeteria meal.

“I’m not,” Richie said simply, trying to avoid his best friend’s gaze as he snatched his glasses away from him and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. When Eddie gaped at him, he just snorted and shrugged his shoulders in a dismissive gesture. “What? My uncle lives in New York, and I think I’m gonna head over there for the summer, join an improv group, get a job. I dunno, I’ll figure it out. I just don’t think I’m made for college, that’s all.”

“You’re not going to _ college _?” Eddie asked. “But Rich, you’ll basically end up . . . well, relying on social care and doing crack if you don’t, right?”

“Nah, I’m sure your mom will take me in as soon as we get married,” Richie grinned at him, and only winced a little when Eddie slapped the back of his head. “I’ll figure it out, all right? And one day we’ll be, I don’t know, thirty, and you’ll see me on TV and go like, ‘hey, this hilarious dude and I used to be friends growing up!’.” Eddie pursed his lips again, which made Richie roll his eyes ever so lightly. “Look, dude, you don’t need to be so _ patronizing _about college and my future —”

“What do you mean, ‘used to be friends’?” Eddie asked, his voice lower than usual. He awkwardly shuffled towards the edge of the bed and sat cross-legged in front of Richie. “Won’t we _ still _ be friends when we’re older? Even if Bill’s in Berkeley, Stan’s in Arizona and I’m in Orono and you’re in New York, or whatever?”

Richie opened and closed his mouth several times, unsure of what to say. They _ had _ been friends for as long as he could remember — Mike and Ben had tagged along a little later, but they were still just as dear to him as the rest of his friends. He wanted to think that they’d obviously never fall apart and that his friends would always be there for him, but the truth was that he wasn’t so sure of it anymore — Beverly had moved to Portland shortly after what happened with Pennywise, and even though she and Ben exchanged letters back and forth every now and then the truth was that none of them really thought about her that much anymore. She was still their friend in a theoretical way, yes, but Richie wouldn’t call their relationship a _ close _ one, with her having been more than three thousand miles away for the past four years. And so it suddenly dawned on him that perhaps one day he would feel the same way about Eddie — he would be living in Orono, or Boston, or perhaps even in goddamn _ Canada _, and they’d never see each other anymore, and he’d only think of him every now and then and regard him as an old childhood friend who was a bit too paranoid about germs and illnesses and with whom he had spent a handful of summer afternoons watching horror films on TV and listening to his Depeche Mode vinyls, just like he and Bill enjoyed spending quality time together by watching Saturday Night Live at Bill’s parents’ while eating an entire tub of chocolate ice cream or when Stan would force him into tagging along to his trips to the Derry Synagogue, looking for some old book that his father needed at home. He hated the idea of them becoming mere specks of dust in the story of his life, and yet there was something inevitable and also somewhat daunting about the divergence that their vital paths were about to face.

But deep down, Richie reflected, he _ did _ know that Eddie would always be a lot more than just a childhood friend to him. Even if his friend couldn’t see it — or didn’t _ want _ to see it — as he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and squeezed it ever so lightly.

“Dude,” he teased, although something at the back of his mind made him wonder if he actually wasn’t, “Do you want us to get married or something?”

Eddie just frowned and shrugged away from his touch, which pained Richie more than he would ever dare to admit.

“I’m serious,” he said, crossing his arms. “I _ hate _ the idea of not being friends with you guys anymore. What . . . what am I gonna do in Orono, all on my own?” His voice had broken, Richie noticed, but Eddie seemed adamant about delivering his entire speech. “I can stand the idea of Bill and Stan and Mike and Ben not being there, but . . . but you, Rich? I thought we’d be friends all our lives. God, I’m such a wimp.” Eddie rubbed his hands against his eyes until they’d become even redder than they already were, and the image felt both endearing and heartbreaking to Richie. He had cared very deeply for Eddie Kaspbrak over the course of the years, but he had probably never felt as strongly about him as he did right then.

And that was why he gently placed his hands on top of his and, feeling a gentle rush of adrenaline through his body, wiped the tears away from Eddie’s eyes.

“We’ll always be friends, Ed,” he muttered, his tone nothing but serious. “I promise you, we’ll be old and gray and I’ll be chasing you around and pulling pranks on every single person in our retirement home, all right? But we’re gonna have to go separate ways for a bit, because life can be a little bitch sometimes and I do want to find out what’s my purpose in life. Other than, you know, pestering you to death.”

Eddie laughed a little, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on Richie’s. He had always been a gentle person, Richie thought to himself, but there was something deeply intimate about the way his best friend’s fingers bumped against his, making both boys giggle in a rather absentminded manner.

“You’re right,” Eddie said finally, a small, sad smile on his face. “But you won’t forget about me, right? About us.”

“Of course, dumbass,” Richie rolled his eyes, but grinned at the idea of there being an _ us _ between him and Eddie. “Only if _ you _ don’t forget about me and my hilarious stand-up routines.”

“How could I ever,” Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. Richie felt a pang of sadness when his friend’s hands let go of his, only for him to snatch his glasses away from him yet again. “Besides — I’m always gonna remember these ones! God, Rich, you’re totally _ blind _.”

“Fuck off!” Richie laughed, shaking his head. His vision was blurry, with Eddie being nothing but a colourful blotch wearing his thick horn-rimmed glasses in front of him, and he laughed cluelessly when his friend’s face came closer to his. “What’re you doing, Ed? I can’t see _ shit _ right n—”

He felt a rush of blood to his cheeks when Eddie’s lips briefly met his, the black edges of his glasses cold against the frame of his otherwise heated up face. It was brief, almost like a passing thought, but Richie felt how his heart hammered against his chest long after Eddie had pulled away and shyly placed his glasses back on Richie’s face.

“What . . . _ what _.” Richie mumbled cluelessly. His friends had always regarded him as one to have a witty comeback nearly every single time, but he felt himself at a loss for words as he stared at Eddie’s sheepish expression in front of him.

“Something for you to remember me by,” Eddie said simply, a meek smile on his face. “Now my germs are all yours, buddy.”

“That’s . . . that’s . . .” Richie tried to look grossed out by the idea of them sharing germs, but the truth was that it was just about the most appealing thing that he’d ever thought of until then. He had spent so many years imagining the possibility of kissing Eddie, of simply _ being _with Eddie as something closer than a friend, that he didn’t quite know what to do with his own body right then. He crossed his arms, unsure of what to say, and then tentatively muttered, as a grin spread across his face, “D’you think we’ve shared enough germs for today, then?”

Eddie beamed and shook his head a little, his cheeks flustering at Richie’s suggestion. “Oh, I think I’ve got a few more to spare before mom comes back from the store.”

Richie felt how his heart thumped inside his chest, and grinned when his lips fell on top of Eddie’s yet again. It was clumsy and strange and also terrifyingly new to him, but there was something perfectly fitting about the way Richie’s fingers clasped Eddie’s and how their bodies seemed to have been _ built _ to be together, and never apart. It was also brief and beautiful and even a little surreal when Richie looked back at it from the solace of his bed, but he happened to know that he would treasure the memory of that last evening together for a very, very long time, long after he left for New York and discovered that he _ was _ fairly good at making other people laugh. He promised to himself that he would always remember the feeling of Eddie’s lips against his, and that the sense of peace that had overcome him that evening would become somewhat of a constant in his life, because the idea of returning to _ that _ moment would guide him through the first years of his adult life.

Except that it didn’t, of course, because the memory of all those shared kisses and patterns traced on the other’s hands faded out of their minds shortly after they both left Derry and decided that it would be best if they never returned to their hometown, the idea of a life together and the possibility of them being more than mere childhood friends to each other becoming nothing but a very distant memory that popped at the back of their minds whenever they listened to Depeche Mode’s _ Just Like A Dream_.

**Author's Note:**

> ok so i've had this headcanon forever that eddie and richie DID kiss or something like that before they left derry for good and they eventually forgot about it because of how they basically forgot everything else about their lives there. i don't care if it isn't plausible or whatever I JUST REALLY NEEDED TO WRITE THIS BECAUSE I'M STILL IN MOURNING. okay thanks for listening! and also for taking a wee bit of time out of your everyday lives just to read this!


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